|
Something old, something new >> Something borrowed, something fou by AMY BARRATT
One is a new script by a local writer-director, the other was first produced in England in 1970 and won a Tony the next year in New York. One is modernist in its appearance, with lighting equipment exposed to the audience. The other is a painstakingly realistic recreation of a country estate. Up to a point, L'Asile and the company behind it are young and "alternative," while it would be hard to get more mainstream than Sleuth and the Saidye. I say up to a point because Théâtre il va sans dire is already 15 years old. Although its vision may remain alternative, its arrival at houses like the Cinquième Salle and Théˆåtre du Nouveau Monde (last year's Don Quichotte) bespeaks a certain acceptance by, and of, the establishment. Meanwhile, the Saidye, in the hands of dynamic artistic director Bryna Wasserman, has a new mandate that includes reaching out to a younger, multicultural public. Wasserman wants the Saidye to "play a significant role in revitalizing our theatre and ultimately, our community and our city." It's difficult to see how producing a 30-year-old British thriller is meant to accomplish that, but Sleuth does at least fulfill the part of the mandate concerned with providing work for local theatre artists. Of the two leads, David Francis is 100 per cent Montrealer, and Paul Essiembre, though not actually based here, was educated at the Dome. Director Dennis Garnhum is "from away," but the rest of the production team is virtually all local. Sleuth, by Anthony Shaffer, is a clever thriller that is also a commentary on the mystery genre. While borrowing much from its predecessors, unlike an Agatha Christie it is a character study before it's a whodunit. The actors in the Saidye production navigate a maze of words admirably, but Francis is miscast as white-male-privilege poster-boy Andrew Wyke. Where he should be cool and charming, he seems jumpy. Reuben Elgin, Mitchell Bloom and James Crawciuk, though, are wonderfully understated in minor roles. As for L'Asile, writer-director Dominic Champagne does an expert job of moving a cast of dozens around a stark playing space, but how many more plays set in madhouses do we need? The whole life-is-meaningless-so-it's-sane-to-be-crazy schtick has been done to death. Ditto the fine line between genius and madness. See a better example of Champagne's direction when Don Quichotte is remounted at TNM next fall. The remainder of the SBC season--Arthur Miller's The Price and the Neil Simon musical They're Playing Our Song--is dishearteningly American. It's difficult to see what they have to do with the goal of bringing "the best local and national theatre to Montreal audiences." But obviously, in attempting to attract a new public, the Saidye has to be careful not to alienate its old one, so Wasserman is wise to be implementing changes by baby steps. In an open letter detailing the theatre's new mandate, Wasserman writes, "I urge you over the next few seasons to track our achievements in relation to our goals." We will.
Sleuth, to March 21 at the theatre of the Saidye Bronfman Centre; $24 (reduced, matinée) to $35 (Sat. eve.); 739-7944. L'Asile, to March 20 at the Cinquième Salle of PdA; $21.01; 842-2112
|
L'Asile, produced by hot alternative company Théâtre il va sans dire, and Sleuth, the first major production at the Saidye Bronfman Centre this season, in some ways represent opposite ends of the spectrum of theatre in Montreal.